Sunday, August 5, 2012

That feels

After a thorough discussion of whether or not cats are perpetually on shrooms (Now-hubby's stance: no, my stance: yes, in case you were curious), we got into a discussion about lovey feelings.

It mostly started because I was recounting experiences from the gang bang this weekend, and telling some stories about one of the men there who I hadn't seen in awhile and had a really good time reconnecting with. (Read into that what you will, pervos. It's probably a little bit if not actually more than you're imagining.)

In any case, the resulting discussion was about what exactly constitutes "love" for somebody like me who doesn't necessarily put a lot of stock in the whole thing. Why, for example, my feelings for Now-hubby and Frisbee are completely different and intense than they are for the guy at the gang bang. Who I have a fantastic time with, connect with on a humor level (which is very big for me), and I'd like to think are fairly compatible in the intercourse sense.

There's a wide variety of people I get involved with. When I say "involved" in this sense I mean "have genital contact with." Well, more like 4 distinct varieties.

1: The "grenade." I had to ask Now-hubby for this term, because I couldn't come up with something that was appropriately lower than the obligations in a distinctly negative sense. For those of you who don't know the terminology, a grenade is somebody that your wingman takes on because you're going to have genital relations with the more attractive person. It's not necessarily about physical attractiveness in this instance, it's sort of more like this.

Or this. (I couldn't choose - both reaction gifs are quite accurate.)

It's that moment when I'm out with somebody or even messaging somebody online and there's that clarifying instance where I know it's not going to work, and I sort of shrug my shoulders and go for genital contact anyway. I've been trying to get away from this type of involvement, as it's generally not healthy and ultimately not pleasurable in any sense.

2: The obligations. Not necessarily people who I dislike being with, but the type of people who I'm not really thinking about on a daily basis if I'm not spending time with them. If they contact me and it happens to work out with my schedule, it's fun to be with them. But I'm not usually actively trying to be with them.

3: The friends with benefits. i.e. the guy from the gang bang. People that I have a lot in common with, and generally have a really good time with (both genitally and non-genitally). There's always a sort of plateau to these relationships, where things are awesome but not, you know, totally excellent.

4: "Loves" The way I describe it to Now-hubby. Friends with benefits are nice and all. They're fun to call up and be with. The way I distinguish this level...if I'm not physically around this person for a few days, I get actually physically depressed. It sounds cliche, but it hurts my heart.

Also, because it's semi-related to this post and Marshie is one of the better things in life:

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